Forest of Glass
by Xazz
Summary: Malik doesn't understand Altair's obsession with the Apple and why it's so hard to get him to stop. Then, one day Altair shows him exactly what it is he sees. -oneshot-


This was my entry to the first round of the Assassin's Creed Big Bang. Since round two has started I figure it's okay if I posted this here.

It's based off this picture http:/ i. imgur. com /uNHWU. jpg

* * *

><p>The wind tugged at the bottom of Malik's robe as he tried to find air, any air because the view before him had left him breathless. Below him tall, thin, glass structures jutted out from the ground, lights blossoming in most of them and elsewhere shuttering on and off like a sputtering candle flame. This was like nothing Malik had ever seen, nothing he could even really comprehend and he felt his knees grow weak at the sight before him. He tipped forward and fell against a railing, grasping it with his hands, both hands. It was cold to the touch and slick with water making it hard to grasp and quickly turned his fingers into ice. All he could do was stare dumbly at the world around him and blink stupefied.<p>

Familiarity swarmed his senses. The smell of stale incense in stagnant air and stonework baking in the hot desert sun, the dim, cool shade of the office he and Altair shared and the large soft pillows on the floor where they sat. All familiar yet not also seemed foreign and unremarkable. Malik found his breath was short and he looked around quickly trying to see if he really was where he was sure he should have been, home, in Masyaf.

Altair sat across from him watching him quietly, the Apple in his hand pulsed slowly and Malik stared at him wide eyed. "I told you," was all Altair said almost smugly.

The voice grounded Malik into reality more firmly then anything else. "What was that?" his voice cracked forcing Malik to clear his throat awkwardly.

Altair smiled, "A place we could never go," was all he said.

Malik's brow furrowed, "Do not play games with me Altair, what was that place?" he demanded.

"A glimpse of the future Malik," he leaned forward holding the Apple up between them, holding it in just his fingertips.

"That can't be real," Malik protested, of course he was going to protest. Such a world was impossible. Buildings made of glass and candlelight that didn't even waver. It was a fantasy, nothing but witchcraft. How else could he explain such things.

"It isn't, not yet at least," he shrugged and brought the Apple back into his lap rolling it between his fingers. "The Apple takes me to that time-

"You've been there before?" Malik demanded.

"Several times," Altair grinned, amused by Malik's floundering. Malik's disdain for Altair's cocky smugness helped him focus though as he tried to rationalize what he'd seen, what he'd _felt_. "I've concluded it is real, though it isn't a world for me, and I am just a visitor, an unseeable spectator," he rolled the Apple across his knees thoughtfully.

"Why do you go if you can't be there then?" Malik demanded.

Altair smirked now and Malik wanted to slap it off his face, "You know why," was all he said and Malik felt his heart skip. He did know why. Already his body ached to experience such a thing again, to see something that no one else had seen but him. The idea made him shiver. "Would you like to go again?"

At that Malik got to his feet, "No," he said though he wanted to. But he saw what it did to Altair. He locked himself alone in his room with that cursed object for days and saw things people weren't supposed to see, know things people weren't to know. He wouldn't fall down that hole.

"Very well," Altair shrugged and got to his feet as well putting the Apple into the dish on his desk.

"We have real work to do now Altair," Malik said, "and not this time wasting you seem so fond of doing," he scolded.

"Yes, of course," he nodded and Malik did as he always did and set him to task, because if he didn't he would dawdle and procrastinate and find something else to do. Even after years of being the Grand Master he still acted like a novice and always tried his hardest to do anything _but_ the work he actually had to do.

The day seemed to go at a snail's pace for Malik. All he could think about was what he'd experienced. He'd had both his arms, both his hands. How had that been possible? Why had such a projection done that? Remind him of what he didn't have, of what he'd give anything to have back. But it had and the idea that he could have them again, all he had to do was ask, was almost to much to bare. He didn't know how Altair was able to constantly part with such a vision where even the impossible was indeed obtainable.

He was grateful for the distraction one of Altair's children brought later in the day for a few minutes before they dragged the Grand Master away to deal with the problem. But that left Malik alone, alone with just the Apple sitting silently in its bowl on the desk. He couldn't concentrate on his work and just kept glancing at the damn sphere unable to stop himself. More than ten minutes passed and Altair did not return and Malik's skin felt like it was crawling with ants.

Finally with a curse he threw his arms up and left his desk, stalking across the room to the Apple and picked it up. It did nothing and he had no idea how to make it work, or even if he could. Altair was always… different from the rest of them. Not just in fighting ability but all abilities, it was like he had another set of senses that he could call up at will and see things others couldn't, hear things no one else could. At times it was unnerving, other times it was helpful. Was it that other sense that let Altair use the Apple or was it-

The door opened again and he dropped the device in surprise. Upon seeing he'd been caught he flushed with annoyance at Altair's cocky smirk. "Hard not to think of it isn't it?" Altair asked as the Apple rolled towards him. He stepped into the office, closing the door behind him and scooped the Apple up as he came towards Malik.

Malik decided to just admit it, Altair seemed to understand at the least, "Yes, it is," he said.

"Again?" he tossed the Apple in one hand and Malik made a face in concentration.

"Knowing you you'd never come out unless I made you," Malik growled.

"I pulled us out earlier," he said and Malik stiffened at the sudden closeness between them. There had been nothing but professional interest between them for many years, you could call it friendship if you wanted but they gave each other the space and now the sudden invasion of such a space made him flustered, especially Altair's look, which was calm and self assured. "I won't let you get lost," he promised.

"Fine," Malik said and Altair dragged him back to the ground where they'd been before. Like before they sat across from each other, knees touching and Altair held the Apple out palm up on both his knee and Malik's waiting for Malik to rest his hand on it in turn. Malik swallowed and looked at the orb. He shouldn't have been afraid of it, he shouldn't be, it was just a trick, an illusion and it wasn't real. That didn't make it any less terrifying. Slowly he reached out and rested his right hand on the Apple.

"There isn't anything to be nervous about Malik," Altair reminded him and Malik didn't try to tell him he wasn't, because he was. He was more than anything else. "We'll be back," and the room was gone.

Once again Malik stood somewhere high, like he was on a mountain and ahead there was a forest of glass and metal and light that jarred his senses. But he was ready for it this time, ready though was a relative term and while he didn't stagger the sight still took his breath away.

Movement at the edge of his vision caught his eye and he turned. Altair leaned against the water slicked banister, wearing the strangest clothes. It resembled the robes of an assassin but they were simpler, and he wore some sort of blue fabriced pants. He ignored Malik and stared out into the darkness that wasn't darkness of the strange glass forest. "He comes here every night," a voice spoke into Malik's ear and he twisted. Altair? But he was there in front of him, against the railing? What was this?

"What?" he couldn't help himself.

Altair copied the movement of the man who was already against the railing and was now looking down. Malik didn't want to follow his train of sight though. He wasn't afraid of heights, but that didn't mean he enjoyed them. "The year is two thousand and fourteen in this world Malik," Altair said gravely, "I have gone further in time than this, but I like this time the best. He," he looked at the doppleganger who didn't even seem to hear him, "is like us, an assassin," Malik nodded, it seemed possible. "He comes up here every day and has since the war ended."

"What war?"

"The war with the Templars."

Malik blinked, startled, did it really end? "And?"

"He always thinks about jumping," Altair said after taking a breath as if to steady himself and the wind picked up striking icy against Malik's face making him shiver. "But he doesn't, he can't," he looked back at Malik and the man that looked like Altair left the railing as though he'd seen all he needed to see.

"And what stops him?" Malik couldn't help but follow the man to a door which opened without touching it with his eyes.

"He's still got things to do, responsibilities," Altair was next to him, practically speaking into his ear. "He has a woman waiting for him and one day he'll have a child to look after, people count on him. He can't jump, no matter how much he wants to, he can't, because there are people waiting for him," and Malik shivered but now not because of the cold. He got the impression Altair wasn't just talking about his look alike. A hand came up to his left shoulder, "Do you trust me?"

"Against my better judgement," Malik said swallowing.

"Then take a leap of faith," he said, "I know you think I lose myself here," Malik said nothing, "But like him I'll always come back. I have too much to really live for to let myself fall."

-fin-


End file.
